Captured
by Elfwynn
Summary: The tent was surrounded by snatchers; all that Harry, Ron and Hermione could do now was run. An AU story that begins at the end of Chapter 22 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: This is story is unofficial and written not for profit. It is in no way connected with J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books or Bloomsbury Publishing or Warner Bros. It is not endorsed by any of the aforementioned parties. Rights to characters and places is neither claimed nor implied.**

**Hermione is one of my favourite characters in the Harry Potter books. I thought I would have a go at writing a fanfiction that follows her. This is an AU Deathly Hallows story that begins at the point where Harry has just said 'Voldermort' and the snatchers have arrived to capture them.**

**_AU from the end of Chapter 22 of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. _**

"'Come out of there with your hands up!' came a rasping voice through the darkness. 'We know you're in there! You've got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don't care who we curse!'" (Rowling J. K. 2007:361)

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**Chapter One - **

**The Snatchers**

Hermione ran as fast as her legs could carry her, stumbling over exposed roots and twigs as she made her way through the forest. Moonlight filtered through the trees overhead casting shadows in the semi-darkness. All she could do now was run and hope that Harry and Ron had managed to get out of the anti-apparition wards and safely away. She could hear the snatchers as they pursued her through the trees. The only option now, was to run. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see figures pursuing her in the darkness. She flicked her wand in their direction; sending a few hexes towards them. She heard a cry as a vicious stinging hex met its mark. Hermione darted out of the way as they returned fire; dodging the volley of hexes sent in her direction. She darted behind a tree as another rush of adrenaline coursed through her body. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears as she scampered over the rough ground of the forest floor. Another volley of hexes flew at her through the night air. As she ducked out of their way, her toe caught on a protruding tree root and she fell. She twisted, pulling herself back to her feet as she felt the blood begin to drip from her nose. Pain began to shoot through her ankle as she ran. "_It's just a sprain, it is just a sprain,_" she kept telling herself as she dodged another curse. They were gaining on her; she could feel them at her back and the pain from her ankle was slowing her escape. A sudden flash of light and her knees buckled; she fell to the floor, her legs locked solidly together.

"Get up vermin"*

A pair of unknown hands dragged Hermione roughly off the ground and onto her knees. Before she could stop them, her wand was pulled roughly from her fingers. Pain shot through her head and she could feel bruising forming where the side of her face, had for the second time, hit the stony floor of the forest. She squinted in the bright illumination of their wand light.

"Delicious girl ... what a treat ... I do enjoy the softness of the skin ..."* said the horribly familiar, rasping voice.

She felt her body tense as she realised who this was. Fenrir Greyback, the only werewolf permitted to wear the robes of a Death Eater, gazed down at her.

"Now, let's see who we've got," said Greyback's gloating voice from overhead*. A beam of wandlight fell onto her face and Greyback laughed.* Hermione winced as another of the snatchers grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back so that they could get a good look at her.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" said Greyback placing a finger under her chin. Hermione twisted away from his hand. The other snatchers gripped her tightly as she tried to break free. A sudden pain shot through her cheek as Greyback slapped her solidly around the face. Tears welled up in her eyes as she bit back the urge to cry.

"Pass me the list, Scabior," said Greyback. The snatcher gripping her hair reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of parchment. Greyback grabbed the sheet and unfolded it.

"What is your name?"* Greyback snarled.

"Penelope Clearwater"* said Hermione sounding terrified.

"What's your Blood Status?"*

"Half-blood"* said Hermione, desperately trying to sound convincing.

"Easy enough to check," said Scabior, "She looks like she could still be 'Ogwarts age ..."*

"I- I left" she said.

"Left? 'Ave you girl?" said Scabior, "An' you an' your little friends just decided to go on a camping trip? ... An' you just thought you would go usin' the Dark Lord's name did you?"

"It was a slip ... we didn't mean to ... we wouldn't ..." she stammered.

"Using the Dark Lord's name..." said Greyback. "Does the Order of the Phoenix mean anything to you?"

"What ... what's that?" said Hermione, desperately hoping that they believed her.

"Not very respectful, that lot," said Scabior, "Since the name's been Tabooed we've managed to use it to track a fair few of 'em"

"Well, perhaps we should teach her to show the Dark Lord some proper respect ..." said another voice. She heard a few laughs and jeers emanate from the surrounding darkness. She couldn't quite see them, but there were definitely other snatchers present. She tried to scan the darkness for any sign of Ron or Harry; all she could do was hope they made it out and were okay. Ron had grabbed her bag with the extension charm, with any luck that would help them, even if they no longer had the tent. She had been separated from them as they ran through the forest. Hermione wasn't as quick as the boys; although she was trying to keep up with the two Quidditch players, she gradually found herself lagging further behind. When Ron had turned back to help her, she yelled at them both to keep running. They were having enough difficulty continuing to dodge the curses that were being thrown.

Scabior released his grip on her hair and shoved her forcibly down into the dirt. Her hands were roughly bound behind her back; then she was lifted and heaved over the snatchers shoulder. He carried her as the snatchers made their way back through the forest. The man smelt of stale sweat and it was rather too obvious that he had not recently bathed. She was un-ceremonially dropped to the ground and shoved into a sitting position next to another prisoner; the leglocker curse preventing any thoughts of escape.

"Is that you?" came a familiar voice.

Hermione looked at the person to her left. "Dean?" she whispered.

"It is you!" he said, "If they find out who they have ... who you are ... they are only looking for truants and runaways to sell for gold -"

"Shhhh ..." she whispered, "Have you seen Harry? Did they catch him and Ron?"

"I haven't seen them -" he replied in a hushed tone.

"Quite a good haul for one night," she heard Greyback say, "A mudblood, a runaway goblin and a truant"

"Shame about the other two getting away ..." replied Scabior, " ... we'll get them next time; don't you worry."

A sudden rush of relief came over Hermione. They had made it; hopefully they were safely somewhere far away. At least now they could continue to hunt for the horcruxes. All she could do now was hope that they wouldn't do anything rash or foolish and get themselves captured or killed.

Some crashing noises echoed in the darkness; drawing her away from thoughts of her two friends. The tent couldn't be too far away and it seemed that they were taking the time to rip it apart and destroy the content. The destruction made a small part of Hermione's heart ache; over the past few months the tent had become a bit of a home to her; at the least it had become a place in which she had felt safe. She felt very alone at that moment. Even Dean's presence proved to be little comfort.

She could see Greyback studying the piece of parchment that he had been handed earlier. He passed the sheet back to Scabior who eagerly scanned the document.

"Clearwater ... Clearwater ... Oy, Greyback. Their aint no Clearwater on 'ere," stated the snatcher.

A dark figure came striding towards them through the trees, Hermione could see something silver glinting in the light from their wand. They had found the sword of Gryffindor.

"Ve-e-ry nice"* stated Grayback as he took the weapon from his companion. "Goblin made, if I am not mistaken."

"Scabior, go and fetch the girl. I think we should have a little word with her," she heard Greyback say.

Panic now overwhelmed the sense of relief that she had just felt for her friends. They had the sword and there was nothing she could do about it.

Scabior grabbed her roughly and dragged her over to his companion. The jagged and uneven ground tore at her clothes, ripping holes in the denim of her jeans and making her knees bleed. Scabior gave her a shove and she fell to her knees at Greyback's feet. Hermione kept her eyes fixed on the ground, worried that her face might betray her. The werewolf reached down and gently caressed her cheek, his long yellow nail running across her skin.

"Tell me, my sweet ..." he said gently as his hand moved across her face and into the mass of her brown ringlets. All of a sudden he tightened his grip on her hair and yanked her head back so that their eyes met. "Where did _you_ get something like this?"

She choked back a sob. The werewolf's breath formed into a white mist of droplets in the cold night air between their faces. He was so close that she could smell the scent of sweat, dirt and blood that emanated from his body. His pupils dilated slightly as he scanned her terrified expression.

"I - I don't know. It – it was my friend's, he was looking after it for ... for his father. He said it was a family heirloom or something," she lied, hoping that in the darkness he couldn't read the name that was etched under the sword's hilt.

"Now, is that right ..." Greyback began to say as he tucked the sword through his belt. His long coat fell forward and concealed the ancient blade from view.

"Greyback!" Scabior interrupted. "Look 'ere, she is one of 'em on all of them wanted posters in the Prophet." Scabior was holding a copy of the paper. Hermione could see the word 'UNDESIRABLES' printed in large, bold, black letters across the open page.

"Yeh Looks like Potters little friend; the mudblood," said the unnamed snatcher.

"_Ermione Granger,_" Scabior read aloud, "_the mudblood who is known to be travelin' with 'Arry Potter._"*

Greyback grabbed the paper from Scabior; studying the photograph for himself. Hermione slumped to the floor. Greyback's boots creaked as he crouched down in front of Hermione.

"You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you."

"It isn't! It isn't me!"* she yelped. The terrified tone of her voice was as good as a confession.

"This 'ere is who we've got. I'm tellin' you, Greyback. It's that Granger girl, it is" Scabior continued, with evident glee at his discovery.

Greyback growled loudly as he jerked back up to his full height. A sudden look of confusion crossed Scabior's face as he and the other snatcher jumped back a step. Greyback angrily shredded the paper, still growling as raged pulsed through him. Scabior looked apprehensively at the werewolf.

"You idiot!" Greyback seethed through his teeth. "Do you know what this means?"

Scabior looked at him hesitantly.

"It means," stated Greyback, "that one of those boys she was with must have been Potter."

Realisation began to dawn across Scabior's face.

"Shit!" exclaimed Greyback, "he was here and we missed him. You damned fool!"

Greyback stuffed the shredded paper back into Scabior's hands. He then grabbed a handful of Hermione's hair and whispered, "Well, this changes things, doesn't it?" An unexpected stillness settled over the scene. Nobody spoke, but Hermione could sense that Greyback's outburst had attracted the attention of the rest of the gang of snatchers; most of whom were now watching their leader with an avid attention.

The snatchers began to close in, peering curiously at her. Hermione whimpered, she was tied-up, wandless and at their mercy. Mercy being something of which, she distinctly felt, that they were unaccustomed to exercise. The seconds felt like an eternity.

"We've got the Granger girl though" said Scabior, breaking the silence, "we can take her to the Ministry -"

"To hell with the Ministry," interrupted Greyback, "they will just take credit for capturing Potter's little friend, and we won't get a look in."

"What should be do with 'er then?" said one of the snatchers.

"I say we take her direct to You–Know-Who," stated Greyback.

"What do you mean? Summon him 'ere?" asked Scabior sounding more than a little terrified.

"No, you fool." Greyback snarled at him, "I haven't got a ..." He paused, "we can take her to Malfoy's place. They say that he is using it a base; we will take her there."

Hermione's mind was racing, nineteen to the dozen. She was going to be taken to Draco's home, to Malfoy Manor. She shivered; horrified by the idea of being handed over to Voldermort. What would they do to her? Although the werewolf wore the robes of a Death Eater, it seemed to Hermione that Greyback hadn't been branded with the dark mark. Was that why he couldn't alert his master? Had he not been awarded that _honour_? Was he not counted among the Dark Lord inner circle because he was afflicted with lycanthropy? She guessed that like others recruited into Voldermort's ranks, he was simply made use of when it suited his master's purpose.

"Are you completely sure that it is 'er, Greyback?" someone questioned, "coz if it ain't, we're dead."

"It's 'er alright," said Scabior, "looks like 'er an' all. She aint no Clearwater ... she's definitely Potter's friend, she is."

"Who's in charge here!" roared Greyback, as he attempted to reassert himself and cover his obvious inadequacy. "Anyway, if we take her to Malfoy, if the Dark Lord isn't happy with being summoned, then Lucius and that lot can take the blame. Just remember, when we found her she was alone; no one with her see!"

"P'raps, they can use the girl to somehow trap Potter," added Scabior, "All right, we're in! What shall we do with the other two? We can't just leave 'em 'ere?"

"We might as well take all three of them," Greyback responded, "Not sure how much we will get for the girl, but I am sure it will be a quite a bit; being one of Potter's best friends ... the other mudblood will be usual 5 Galleons and the Goblin ... well, we just have to wait and see what we get for him."

"You two!" Greyback yelled, gesturing at a couple of his men. "You stay here. Search the forest for any signs of Potter!"

The three prisoners were dragged to their feet. Hermione noticed the look of alarm in Dean's eyes as a large snatcher in a frayed coat jerked him forward. Her head was throbbing from the fall and by now her body must be covered in scrapes and bruises. Thankfully, her nose had stopped bleeding, and she didn't think anything was broken.

"Grab hold of the other two, and make sure you have got 'em tight. I will deal with the girl!" said Greyback, as he once again seized a handful of her bushy hair. His nails dug sharply into her scalp as he shouted to his companion, "On three! One ... two ... three -"

The snatchers disaparated with a resounding 'pop', pulling the prisoners along with them. Hermione struggled against Greyback's grip; trying to throw him off, but his strong fingers firmly grasped the long tendrils of her curly brown hair, while his other hand gripped her shoulder tightly. As the magic of the apparition took hold and transported them, she felt as if her breath was being squeezed out of her body. As the inevitable sensation of pulling at her navel set in, her stomach seemed to do a somersault.

Hermione's body lurched forward as they reappeared in the middle of a country lane. Her stomach objected to the pressure of the enforced apparition. Before she could acclimatise to her new surroundings, her stomach heaved and she threw up. Scabior jumped out of her way, shouting a few obscenities at her as he tried to avoid the warm puddle of sick.

Greyback guffawed at Scabior's reaction to the vomiting teenager. Thankfully, he had released his hold on her hair, but he still had a firm grip on her shoulder. Hermione spluttered and coughed wishing her hands were free so she could wipe her face. With a flick of his wand, Greyback released her legs from the Leglocker curse. He then pulled her to her feet dragging her in the direction of a pair of wrought-iron gates at what appeared to be the foot of a long driveway. Fear prickled through her as they reached the gates. She was about to be presented to Lord Voldermort; bound, wandless and helpless. At this point, she couldn't think of a worse position or place to be.

One of the snatchers strode confidently up to the gates and shook them. "They're locked," he yelled "Oy, Greyback! How do we get in? I can't -"

With that, the metal began to twist beneath his hands and he pulled back in fright. "Bloody hell!" he exclaimed, as the iron warped and contorted to form a fearsome-looking face. "State your purpose!" it commanded in a harsh and resonant voice.

"We've caught one of Potter's friends" Greyback stated, now sounding a little less confident, "the Granger girl, the mudblood." There was a pause, then suddenly the face shifted as the metal twisted back and the gates swung open for them.

"Come on," Greyback urged his men. They reluctantly moved forward, following Greyback as they traversed the drive, ushering their captives along. Hermione glimpsed an eerie looking albino peacock through the high hedges that lined the driveway. The bird's white plumage made it look like it was glowing in the moonlight. There was a distinctly sinister and hostile feeling in the air. The gravel crunched under their feet and Hermione thought about what it might have been like for Draco growing up here, she almost felt sorry for him. Letting her mind wonder meant that she wasn't paying attention. Suddenly, she lost her footing and stumbled, her joints were still aching and numb from the leglocker curse, and her sprained ankle throbbed with a dull pain. Greyback's vice-like grip on her shoulder meant that she was instantaneously wrenched back to her feet and dragged onward, along the drive. "Stupid, clumsy girl," he muttered under his breath.

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**Authors Note: **

***Denotes direct quote from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows pages 362-366 (British Edition), although context/intonation is slightly different from original text.**

**Please review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: This is story is unofficial and written not for profit. It is in no way connected with J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Books or Bloomsbury Publishing or Warner Bros. It is not endorsed by any of the aforementioned parties. Rights to characters and places is neither claimed nor implied.**

**A huge thank you to everyone for such an amazing response to the first chapter. I have really enjoyed reading and responding to the lovely reviews that I received. I really hope that this next chapter meets your expectations!**

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**Chapter Two –**

**Malfoy Manor **

Light spilled out over them as the main door to the manor opened. Hermione felt herself forced to the ground; sharp pieces of gravel dug into her flesh.

"What is this?"* said a woman's voice. Her tone was cold and authoritative; Hermione suspected the voice belonged to Draco's mother. Although having never met her, there was little doubt in her mind that the woman speaking was the 'lady of the manor'.

"We have prisoners! They're for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Greyback rasped in response.

"Who are you?"* she replied, sounding slightly more curious.

"You know who I am!" said Greyback sounding affronted, "Greyback, Fenrir Grayback." Suddenly, he grabbed the back of Hermione's jacket and dragged her forward towards the source of the light. "We caught Granger! One of Potter's little Mudblood friends ... at the top of the list of 'Undesirables' this one is. Thought she might come in useful, you know? "

Narcissa Malfoy looked closely at the girl in front of her. Bruising had begun to discolour one side of her face, she was covered in dirt and the blood from her nose had dried as it had dripped down her chin. A faint smell of vomit still lingered and there were bits of twig and leaf embedded in Hermione's mass of untamed curls. She crinkled her nose in disgust as she looked at the pathetic creature in front of her.

"See 'ere," interjected Scabior, "this 'ere is the Mudblood that 'as been travlin' around with Potter, ma'am. There ain't no doubt about it, I'm tellin' yar!"

"Bring them in," she instructed, "Follow me."

They were shoved up the steps and in through the large doorway. Hermione found herself in a large hallway that was lined with portraits. The wizards peered at her curiously from their frames; more than one portrayed a look of revulsion and she could hear them mutter things like, "Mudblood," "filth" and "scum" as she passed them.

The subdued glow of the candle-light flickered across the Narcissa Malfoy's features. "My son, Draco, is home from school for the Easter holidays," she informed them, "he will know the girl; if she is who you say she is."

Hermione, sucked in a nervous breath of air. Draco would recognise her immediately and there was nothing that she could do. If Voldermort was using the Malfoy's home as his base then she could only assume that Draco, truly was a fully fledged member of the Death Eaters.

They followed Draco's mother into a sizeable, well proportioned drawing room. The bright light emitted from the large crystal chandelier hung centrally from the ceiling, was momentarily dazzling against the darkness outside. Her eyes instantly began to adjust to the increased illumination. The first thing Hermione noticed, were the large gilded frames of the portraits, which stood out against the rich purple of the walls. As she managed to focus, she could make out two figures as they rose from a pair of large chairs, positioned in front of an ornate marble fireplace. Greyback's hand was still firmly latched onto her shoulder and as they passed into the room, he gave her a rough shove releasing her from his grasp. She stumbled forward, her body cannoning to the floor at the feet of Narcissa Malfoy. The woman looked down at her in disgust as the other prisoners were dragged into the room as the other snatchers entered.

"What is this?"*

The familiar sound of the voice gave Hermione an awful sense of doom. There really was no way out; a feeling of panic began to rise up as her fear escalated as Lucius Malfoy approached.

"Ah, I see we have guests, my dear," he said as he crossed the drawing room, "... and I see that they have brought some friends of their own."

Lucius Malfoy stood in front of her, his cold eyes bore down at her crumpled body, now sprawled across the floor.

"They say that this is the Mudblood that was travelling with Potter," said Narcissa in a dispassionate tone, "Draco, come here."*

The second figure stepped forward, the firelight glinting on the polished black leather of his shoes. She kept her eyes down, overtly sensitive to the movements of the rooms other occupants. She couldn't bring herself to meet her former classmate's eyes. Hermione could feel tears beginning to well up and she choked back a sob as the pale and pointed face of the Malfoy heir scrutinized her.

Greyback grabbed her once more, wrenching her face upward into the light of the chandelier.

"Granger, what the hell are you doing here?" she heard Draco exclaim.

At that point all possible hope finally drained out of her and the werewolf pushed her back down to the floor.

"Well Draco, it seems that one of your little friends has come to play," drawled Lucius, "I am sure we will find ways to occupy her time while she is with us, wont we?"

"Th-the Mudblood's no friend of mine!" spat Draco. The harsh words hiding a slight tremor, as his throat caught on the first word. At this, Hermione's eyes flashed upwards to meet the uncertain gaze of her former class mate. His familiar platinum blond hair framed his face as he peered down at her. Faced with both Draco and his father, Hermione found herself slightly unnerved by the remarkable similarities between the two men. However, Lucius portrayed none of the reluctance that his son's face bore.

A sudden cackle resonated across the dining room as Bellatrix Lestrange made her presence known. Her thick, shining dark hair glistened as she pushed effortlessly, past the huddle of snatchers. Her heavily hooded eyes flashed across the room, assessing the situation that was playing out in front of her.

"Oh dear, dear, Miss Granger, it appears that your presence is not quite as welcome as you would have hoped," leered Lucius Malfoy.

Turning his attention away from Hermione's prone form, he asked his wife, "Narcissa dear, would you please use the floo to contact the good Headmaster and request his presence?"

Narcissa readily complied with her husband's request. Turning on her heal, she left the commotion of the drawing room in search of a quieter place to use the floo network.

"Lucius, why do you want to involve Severus?" pouted Bellatrix, "he will just ruin all my fun! You know how much I enjoy it when there are guests to play with ..."

"My Dear, with the Dark Lord otherwise occupied it seems prudent to keep Severus in the loop, does it not?"

"But ..."

"Once Severus arrives, you can have as much fun as you like with the girl. I am sure he will be more than happy to indulge in a glass of firewhisky with me ... while we leave you to your games"

Narcissa re-entered the room glancing towards her sister. Bellatrix had her arms folded across her chest in defiance and was pouting like a petulant school child. A look of exasperation marred Lucius' features; it mingled with a slight flicker of concern as he met his wife's gaze.

"He will be here in a moment," Narcissa informed them. "Are you sure that it is Potter's Mudblood girl?" she asked, looking at her Husband and son.

At that moment, Professor Snape's bat-like figure entered the room, his black robes swirling around his body as he moved. He glanced down at Hermione, paying no heed to the snatchers presence. Before either Lucius or Draco could say anything, Snape spoke.

"Indeed it is Narcissa, after six years of her incessant hand-waving, I would have to be a blind fool not to recognise that irritating little know-it-all," stated Snape dispassionately.

At the sight of her former professor, Hermione gasped. Snape looked down at her with distain. The rope binding her hands rubbed painfully around her wrists as she tried to pull herself back up onto her knees.

"Ah, Severus," said Lucius, "how kind of you to come."

"Lucius," he addressed his fellow Death Eater, in greeting.

The potions master turned his attention towards the dishevelled band of snatchers and their captives.

"Her wand, if you please?" said Snape as stepping forward. Greyback pulled her familiar vine wood wand from his pocket and thrust it in Snape's direction. "Indeed," he stated as he retrieved the implement; inspecting it briefly, he then tucked it into his voluminous black robe.

"Oh yes, now I recognise her," said Narcissa condescendingly. "She was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! Her picture was in the Prophet ... a little less foliage in her hair ..."

"Severus, we need to decide what we should do with the girl," stated Lucius, interrupting Narcissa's musings.

"Perhaps, I could spend some quality time with Potter's little friend here, – just – us – girls!" Bellatrix cooed menacingly.

"Not now Bella!" Lucius snapped at her.

Greyback was growing increasingly impatient. "Begging your pardon, Mr Malfoy, shouldn't you contact the Dark Lord?" he growled, "let him decide what to do with her..."

Bellatrix's eyes lit up at the thought of contacting her Master. "Lucius, yes, he will want to know. We have Potter's little Mudblood in our possession – surely the boy would do anything to get her back?"

She pulled back her left sleeve eagerly; exposing the ugly black image of the Dark Mark burnt into the soft flesh of her arm.

"Now, now Bella, let's not be hasty!" said Lucius as he placed his hand firmly over Bellatrix's exposed arm.

Ignoring Bellatrix, Snape turned his attention to the werewolf, "It's only one of Potter's little friends Greyback. Do you really think that we would bother the Dark Lord for her?"

"Now, if you had Potter ... well, perhaps we might reconsider ..." added Lucius.

"You owe us Malfoy!" shouted Scabior, "we brought the girl here! An' the others too... it's us that should be claimin' the gold!"

Lucius looked at the other snatchers. "Take the boy and the goblin below and lock them up," he instructed.

"Narcissa dear, would you show them the way to the cellar," he politely asked his wife.

Hermione watched as the two snatchers followed Narcissa out of the room, dragging Dean and the goblin with them. Dean struggled against his captor. "No! No!" he shouted, his eyes looked pleadingly around the room. "Snape?" he pleaded to no avail. "... Traitor!" he shouted before turning his attention to the snatcher holding him " let me go! ... get your hands off me ... "

An amused look crossed the professor's face as he watched one of his former students un-ceremonially dragged away.

Grayback and Scabior stood their ground. "The gold, Malfoy!" Greyback demanded.

"You filthy scavenger!"* shrieked Bellatrix at the two men, "who are you to demand anything? You filthy animal!"

Lucius chuckled at his sister-in-law's histrionics. "Why certainly Greyback, I always ensure that my guests get exactly what they deserve.." he replied, casually meeting the werewolf's eyes, "Here are your 10 Galleons for the two Mudbloods." He produced a handful of coins and extended his arm towards the two men.

"That aint fair!" complained Scabior, "the girl is Potter's friend. Should be more for 'er."

"You brought us a Mudblood," said Lucius fimly, "and you will be rewarded accordingly, regardless of her associations."

Greyback growled at him forebodingly. Lucius noted his displeasure with a small smile, confident that the werewolf would not challenge him. His superior position in the Dark Lord's ranks gave him the advantage, despite his current lack of favour. The two snatchers posed little threat in a room containing four members of the Dark Lord's inner circle.

"What about the Goblin?" Scabior whined.

"What about him?" asked Lucius.

"We brought 'im here too ... he was on the run ... a traitor ... we deserve somethin' for that!"

"Fine, fine ... well if I must; here are another couple of Galleons for your trouble," said Lucius impatiently, as he added another couple of the golden coins to the pile.

Lucius offered the handful of coins out to Greyback. As the werewolf reached out to take the coins, Lucius smirked and tilted his hand; scattered the coins onto the floor. They clattered to the ground next to Hermione's cowering form. She flinched as they bounced over the marble floor. Scabior launched himself forward; scampering around on the ground eagerly collecting the coins.

"Now get out of my house!" he shouted at the irate werewolf, "and take your bunch of miscreants with you!"

Disgusted, Greyback turned swiftly on his heal making the length of his long coat flair outward at the sudden motion. A sudden glint of silver flashed from beneath the dark fabric.

"WAIT!" shrieked Bellatrix sending a sudden shockwave through the room. The eyes of the room's occupants darted between Bellatrix and the snatchers. Greyback turned back slowly to face the panic stricken witch. "What is that?" she said.

"Sword"* grunted Scabior, clearly disgruntled by the sudden need to state the obvious.

"Give it to me!"

"Why should I? It's not yours," Greyback parried, "... finders keepers, Bellatrix! I found it, so I reckon it's mine. I'm not just gunna give it to you!"

Bellatrix strode past Hermione; a flash of red light shot from the end of her wand. There was a loud thud as the Stunned leader of the band of snatchers flew backwards hitting the far wall. Scabior roared and launched himself toward Bellatrix. Before he was able to drew his wand, a second blaze of light shot across the room and hit the enraged snatcher's side. Hermione looked up to see Professor Snape poised in a duelling stance. His expression was passive despite the tension in his limbs; his face was as unreadable as ever.

Momentarily shocked, Bellatrix turned to face her defender; in recognition she cackled with glee as she skipped over to Greyback's unconscious body. She wrenched the sword from beneath his coat and lifted it up for inspection.

The door to the room flew open and Narcissa came running in. The two snatchers that had escorted the other prisoners out of the room stumbled through the doorway behind her. At the sight of the two men, all wands were trained upon them. Nobody moved, Hermione could hear the ragged breaths of the room's occupants as her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Slowly she struggled across the ground; edging her way towards the side of the room and out of the line of fire. Lucius Malfoy gestured protectively to his wife, ushering her behind him. Narcissa moved quickly across the room towards the fireplace. Reaching for her wand she positioned herself next to her son. Hermione could feel the tension electrify the air. Slowly she watched as the two remaining snatchers put their hands in the air.

Greyback began to stir. "Bloody hell" he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Was that really necessary Bellatrix?" he complained, pulling himself up onto his feet he eyed the sword that was gripped in Bellatrix's hand. "If you wanted it that badly, you shudda just bloody said!" he grumbled.

"Ah-a- ah!" clucked Bellatrix, waving a raised finger from side to side, her wand still in hand. "On your knees, Greyback," she commanded.

The werewolf did as requested.

"Where did you get the sword?"* she asked, kicking his wand away. It skidded across the floor and away from his grasp.

"How dare you!" he snarled. He looked around unsteadily at the wands brandished in his direction.

"Where did you find this sword, Greyback?" she repeated, waving the weapon slowly in front of his face.

"If you must know, it was in 'er tent!" he barked, jerking his head in Hermione's direction.

Hermione backed up against the wall as Bellatrix's gaze settled upon her.

"Isn't this interesting, Mudblood ..." she said curiously, looking at Hermione. She then turned towards the professor. "Snape!" she screeched, "YOU sent it to my vault!"

"Indeed; that is correct," he said, raising an eyebrow at the incensed witch.

Rage bubbled through Bellatrix's body. "Get out!" she screeched at the snatchers as her grip tightened on the handle of her wand.

The two men at the door backed out of the room slowly, their hands in the air. "You too" she yelled at Greyback, "Out! The lot of you, out!"

Still pinned against the wall, Hermione watched as the large werewolf scurried towards the door; snatching his wand from the floor as he made his way out.

"Draco?" Bellatrix called, "Move that scum outside! If you haven't the guts to dispose of him yourself, tell his friends to take their filth with them when they leave." She gestured at the unconscious body of Scabior; he was slumped uncomfortably on the drawing room floor.

"Don't you dare speak to my son like that!" said Narcissa angrily, "You are in my house, Bella -"

"Silence!" Belatrix screeched, "Be quiet sister! You have no idea of the severity of the situation! We have found ourselves in very serious predicament, Cissy!" Narcissa looked shocked at her sister's words.

Wordlessly, Draco crossed the room, levitating Scabior's body he exited into the hall. Scabior's head lolled backwards, striking against the doorframe with a dull thud, as Draco's wand hand momentarily wavered.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

***Denotes direct quote from Deathly Hallows, although context/intonation is slightly different from original text.**

**Please keep reviewing as it really motivates me to write!**


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